CXXXII.

CXXXII. And thou, who never yet of human wrong Left the unbalanced scale, great Nemesis! Here, where the ancients paid thee homage long-- Thou, who didst call the Furies from the abyss, And round Orestes bade them howl and hiss For that unnatural retribution--just, Had it but been from hands less near--in this Thy former realm, I call thee from the dust! Dost thou not hear my heart?--Awake! thou shalt, and must.